


Make It Better

by triste



Category: Kuroko no Basuke | Kuroko's Basketball
Genre: Alternate Universe, Angst, Crack, Drabble Collection, Fluff, Genderswap, Humor, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Smut, UST, Work In Progress
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-11-14
Updated: 2013-01-24
Packaged: 2017-11-18 16:12:20
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 10
Words: 9,430
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/562922
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/triste/pseuds/triste
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Damn, it’s like something out of a porn manga.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Theme #3: Crack

Written for the microfic meme  
Theme #3: Crack

~~

Kuroko can only stare at the writhing mass in front of him, unable to form a coherent sentence.

“I don’t even...”

Aomine may have been a jerk in the past, but that doesn’t mean he deserves to be turned into a tentacle monster.

“When I woke up I was like this,” the tentacle monster (Aomine, Kuroko reminds himself) says. “Freaky as fuck, huh?”

That’s one way of putting it. 

“Is this actually happening?” Kuroko asks. 

“I could pinch your cheek,” Aomine suggests. “If it hurts you, then you’re dreaming.”

Which is how it’s supposed to work, at least, but Aomine doesn’t have hands anymore, or fingers, just... feelers.

“You really don’t have to do that,” Kuroko replies quickly, but it’s too late. One of Aomine’s tentacles is already touching the side of his face, and it’s the strangest thing he’s ever felt against his skin, all smooth and slick and slippery.

“It’s no good.” Aomine’s tentacle prods his cheek. “I can’t pinch you.”

“So I noticed.” Kuroko grimaces when the tentacle moves over his bottom lip. “Um, Aomine-kun? You should probably stop.”

Aomine does the exact opposite, and slides his tentacle along Kuroko’s jaw. Kuroko tries not to shiver, but he can’t stop his body from reacting in revulsion.

“Does it feel gross?” Aomine’s tentacle moves down over Kuroko’s throat, lingering at his Adam’s apple, which bobs when Kuroko swallows. “Or does it feel good?”

“Definitely the first one.” Kuroko clenches his fists. “I’m serious, Aomine-kun, please stop doing this to me.”

“When you put it like that,” Aomine says (and it’s funny how Kuroko just knows he must be wearing the biggest, most lecherous shit-eating grin, although the tentacle monster doesn’t actually have a face to show any expression with), “it makes me want to do it even more.” He loops his tentacle loosely around Kuroko’s neck. “Come on, it’s not every day your best friend turns into a tentacle monster. You might as well make use of me before I turn back to normal.” Aomine pauses. “*Will* I turn back to normal? God, I hope so. This is fun and all, but not the kind of thing I’d want on a permanent basis. How the hell would I be able to play basketball?”

Kuroko chokes back a laugh at the mental image of Aomine slithering his way across the court, but his amusement soon ceases when another of Aomine’s tentacles slips under his shirt.

“Damn, it’s like something out of a porn manga.” Aomine twitches his tentacle, and Kuroko’s stomach muscles jerk. “Gonna make some sexy noises for me, Tetsu?”

“I think,” Kuroko manages to rasp out, raising his right hand in preparation, “I’m about to unleash the Ignite Pass on you.” But before he can do so, Aomine wraps a third tentacle around his wrist, holding him in place. “Aomine-kun!”

“Don’t be such a killjoy. Here, let me make it better by taking off your clothes for you.”

A sharp, tearing sound fills the air as Kuroko’s shirt is ripped apart, and Aomine binds his other wrist before he can attempt to break free. A fourth tentacle forces its way into his mouth, and Kuroko whimpers in protest.

“Fuck, that’s hot. Kinda makes me wish you were sucking on my cock instead.” Aomine curses when Kuroko bites him, but then he laughs. “I’ll get you for that, you little bastard.”

He removes Kuroko’s pants and underwear as easily as his shirt, winding a tentacle around each of his thighs and spreading them wide apart. Kuroko squirms, moaning around the one in his mouth, but he can’t move, not with Aomine holding him so securely. 

Kuroko’s whole body convulses, eyes widening in shock when he feels tentacles stroking his balls, curling around his cock and then – he bucks again, the tentacle in his mouth muffling his scream – sliding up his ass, and he starts getting hard, unable to prevent himself from responding, however reluctantly.

“Oh?” Aomine sounds amused. “It seems as if you’re finally enjoying yourself.” 

He adds another tentacle to the mix, rubbing it over Kuroko’s nipples, all of them working together to drive him over the edge, and the stimulation is almost too much for him to bear as Aomine drives the tentacle in his ass deeper still, tugging on his cock until Kuroko comes with a strangled cry, his limbs twitching weakly as he feels himself black out.

~~

When he opens his eyes again, the first thing Kuroko sees is his bedroom ceiling. He blinks once, twice, just to check that he’s not mistaken, and then he looks back down. He’s in bed and fully clothed in his pyjamas (which are, he’s dismayed to note, sticky with semen).

“Oh, thank god.”

Fumbling for his cell phone, he dials Aomine’s number, listens to it ring until Aomine picks up with a yawn.

“Aomine-kun,” says Kuroko, all seriousness, “have you grown tentacles?”

There’s a silence on the other end, and then, “What the... Tetsu, it’s not even 5am. Please don’t tell me you’re calling at ass o’clock just to let me know you’ve finally developed a sense of humour – which, by the way, is totally not funny, for your information and –”

Aomine continues to rant on, but Kuroko doesn’t bother paying attention to the rest of his complaints. Anyway, he needs to do the laundry.

But before that, he needs to pretend this whole dream never happened.


	2. Theme #5: First time

Written for the microfic meme  
Theme #5: First time

~~

It’s not how Kuroko anticipates when Aomine touches him, his hands gentle and reverent, treating him like he’s made out of glass, like he might shatter if he’s not careful enough, keeping his eyes open the whole time, like he’s afraid Kuroko will disappear if he dares to close them, and it’s endearing, heartbreaking almost, to see him this way, so Kuroko reassures him with a kiss, whispers that he loves him, that he’s not going anywhere.

“I don’t deserve you,” Aomine says.

“You do,” Kuroko replies, placing his palms on either side of Aomine’s face, brushing his cheekbones with his thumbs. “I’m yours.”

And he’ll say it as often as it takes for Aomine to believe him, until the doubt in his mind is erased.

Maybe he’s foolish. Maybe he’s too forgiving. Either way, he doesn’t care, not when Aomine is this vulnerable in front of him, when he’s baring his soul to Kuroko, stripped of his usual arrogance, leaving only sincerity and devotion.

Running a single fingertip along the line of Kuroko’s throat, pausing at his pulse point, Aomine asks, “It’s okay if I...?”

“Yeah,” Kuroko smiles, warm and inviting, “it’s okay. Whatever you want.”

“I want you.”

“Then you can have me.”

Kuroko lays back, opens himself up, and Aomine falls between the cradle of his legs, letting Kuroko guide him inside, giving in willingly to the pressure of Aomine’s entrance. 

“So good,” Aomine groans, in as far as he can go, balls against Kuroko’s ass. “You’re so good to me, Tetsu.”

“Shh,” Kuroko soothes, coaxing, comforting. “No more words.”

He rocks his hips, Aomine catches on to his rhythm, and they begin moving together, slow and sensuous. He listens to the sound of their breathing, their soft sighs and muted moans, Aomine bringing him closer to orgasm with every thrust, and he slides a hand between their bodies to stroke his cock, to give him the final push he needs.

Waiting for Aomine to find his own release, Kuroko raises his sticky fingers to Aomine’s mouth, coating his lower lip with come, and Aomine sucks them inside, tongue greedy to taste more of him, biting down on them when he shudders, spilling himself, and Kuroko whimpers, loving the way it feels to be owned, possessed by someone.

Drained, Aomine slumps on top of him, his weight pressing Kuroko further into the mattress, but Kuroko holds him close when he tries to lift back up, whispers into his ear to stay.

“Forever,” Aomine promises.

“Forever,” Kuroko agrees.


	3. Theme #4: Genderswitch

Written for the microfic meme  
Theme #4 : Genderswitch

~~

Glancing over at Aomine in the locker room, Kuroko is quick to notice something.

“You bought a new one?” she asks, referring to her partner’s bra.

“Not like I wanted to,” Aomine replies, scowling down at her chest in disgust. “But before I knew it, I’d gone up a size. Again.”

Kuroko raises an eyebrow. “It isn’t very feminine.”

“Because I refuse to wear girly crap, that’s why.”

And that’s Aomine’s attitude to femininity in a nutshell. Tall and tomboyish, with her short-cropped hair, she’s always been able to pass as being male, at least until recently, now that puberty has begun to take hold, which frustrates her to no end. Kuroko doesn’t really understand it, but then she and Aomine have never been able to agree on anything other than basketball. 

Silently lamenting her own lack of growth, Kuroko says, “It’s nice to have aesthetically pleasing lingerie. That’s what I think.”

“It’s black,” Aomine states, “it’s functional, and it does its job. What more could you want? Well,” she adds, expression turning sly, “other than an increase in bust size, eh, Little Miss A Cup?”

“At least I don’t have penis envy,” Kuroko retorts, slightly sore at being hit in such a vulnerable spot.

“Hey,” Aomine grins, “if I were a real guy, with a real cock, I’d fuck you so hard you wouldn’t be able to walk straight for a week.”

“Please stop being crude. It’s unladylike.”

The snort Aomine gives in response is about as far from girlish as it’s possible to be, and that suits her just fine. Besides, she always responds whenever Kuroko comments on her lack of womanly appeal, one of them needs to be the butch in their relationship. It makes Kuroko sigh in resignation the same way Momoi does, and she hasn’t been with Aomine since they were kids, but she’s learnt enough to know that Aomine always has been, and probably always will be, no different to how she is now. Kuroko can’t imagine her any other way, and if she tries to picture Aomine being as girlish as Kise or as dainty as herself, it only makes her brain hurt.

“Anyway,” Aomine continues, “what’s so great about being female? Men have it better.”

“That may be true in some ways,” Kuroko says, “seeing as we still live in a very male dominated society, but there are also many positives that come with being a woman.”

“Such as?”

“We can bear children, for example.”

The face Aomine pulls implies she’d rather stick a red-hot poker up her vagina than push a baby down it, so Kuroko switches tactics and lowers her intellect to Aomine’s level.

“Furthermore, we’re capable of having multiple orgasms. Wouldn’t you consider that to be a rather large plus?”

“I guess it’s not so bad,” Aomine relents, and she goes from a grimace to a leer. “You seem to enjoy it when I see how many times I can make you come.”

“And then you don’t listen when I tell you to stop,” Kuroko says coolly, “because although it certainly can be pleasurable at first, I become so sensitive it’s actually painful.”

“But it’s really hot.” Aomine looks as if she’s about to start salivating at the mere memory. “When I tie you up and you spread your legs for me, begging for my mouth on your cunt –” Kuroko frowns in disapproval at her use of language “– and I’m there eating you out, getting as many fingers as I can inside you, and you’re all, ‘Aomine-san, please, I can’t take anymore,’ in this voice that’s so fucking sexy, and that just makes me want to –”

Kuroko doesn’t give her the chance to finish, slamming an elbow into Aomine’s ribs in a way that forces her breath out of her lungs in a painful sounding grunt. “You should be well aware how much I dislike perverts, Aomine-san.”

“I know how much you like big tits,” Aomine wheezes, rubbing her side with a wince. “Shit, that’s going to leave a bruise. I still wonder sometimes why you chose me and not Murasakibara. I thought her double D’s would be right up your alley.” Then she snickers. “Maybe you were scared of being smothered to death by them. Or maybe it’s because Murasakibara’s boobs have more presence than you do.”

Refusing to let Aomine bait her into an argument (which she wouldn’t normally mind participating in, childish as their bickering can be sometimes), Kuroko steps forward and nuzzles her face between the valley of Aomine’s breasts. The height difference puts them on perfect eye level with her, and Kuroko smiles, thumbing a nipple through the starchy fabric of Aomine’s sports bra until it hardens under her touch.

“I like yours best,” she says simply.

It’s comical how Aomine can say the filthiest things without getting embarrassed, and yet whenever Kuroko is honest and affectionate with her like this, she goes red faced and flustered. “You’re really happy with them?”

Placing a kiss to Aomine’s collarbone, Kuroko nods. “Yes. I really am.”


	4. Theme #6: Fluff

Written for the microfic meme  
Theme #6: Fluff 

~~

When Kuroko asks Momoi if it was difficult at first getting used to the way she calls Aomine now, she laughs in agreement.

“Old habits are hard to break.” Resting her elbows on the tabletop and settling her chin on them, Momoi’s expression turns nostalgic. “Once you give someone a certain name, you kind of have trouble changing it later.”

She doesn’t call him Dai-chan these days, for her sake and Aomine’s, because they aren’t children anymore, they’re in middle school already, and whether Momoi likes it or not, a distance has come between them as a result. 

Kuroko thinks he understands what she’s talking about, because when he tries to imagine calling her anything other than the way he addresses all the girls in his year, with formality and respect, it feels awkward and strange.

“Thank you,” he says, inclining his head in gratitude, polite as ever, “for giving me your opinion. I really appreciate it.”

Blushing, but unable to resist her curiosity, Momoi says, “Is it okay if you let me know why?” 

It’s a little embarrassing for Kuroko to explain, but he feels that he owes her an explanation, if only because she’s still the person who’s closest to the one he admires and looks up to so much.

“I don’t mind.” Even so, Kuroko can’t bring himself to meet Momoi’s gaze, afraid she might laugh at him once she hears what he has to say, even though he knows she never would. “I wanted to change the way I call Aomine-kun. I was hoping that, if I started calling him by name instead, it would make him happy.”

When he looks up again, Momoi is smiling, but it’s fond, and slightly bittersweet. “I think he’d like that.”

Relieved, Kuroko continues. “I’ve been trying to find a good opportunity, but it simply won’t seem to present itself.”

“Just say it,” Momoi encourages. “Don’t keep putting it off. Next time you see him, say it. It doesn’t matter if you’re nervous. You’ll be glad once you have. Remember why you wanted to do it in the first place. That should give you courage.”

Her advice is sound, as always, and Kuroko feels reassured by it. He wants Aomine to be happy, he really does, but more importantly, he wants to bring them closer together, to be less reserved and more intimate, which is why, after practise he invites Aomine out to Maji Burger for something to eat.

“Sure,” Aomine agrees. “Your treat?”

“Okay,” Kuroko says, and then, in a voice that’s barely audible, he adds, feeling his face go red, “Daiki.”

That stops Aomine in his tracks, and his eyes widen in surprise. “Um,” he says, looking anywhere but at Kuroko, which is strange, because he’s the one who should be flustered, not Aomine. “Great?” 

There’s silence for a moment before their eyes meet, and they both start laughing. It’s impossible not to. The situation is so ridiculous. It feels like everything is back to normal after a moment of temporary absurdity.

“Let’s go, Tetsu.” Aomine slings an arm companionably over Kuroko’s shoulders, warm and comfortably familiar.

“Yes, Daiki.” It’s easier the second time Kuroko says it, and it makes Aomine grin, and when Aomine looks at him like that, it makes Kuroko’s stomach go all funny and fluttery.

He doesn’t need to ask Aomine if he’s happy. His expression tells Kuroko that he is.


	5. Theme #9: Smut

Written for the microfic meme  
Theme #9: Smut

~~

One of the things Kuroko loves most about Aomine is that he never holds back, never goes easy on anyone, not even him, and that’s just how Kuroko likes it, how much he craves Aomine’s raw intensity. It excites him how easily Aomine can pin him down, only needing one large hand to keep an iron grip on Kuroko’s thin wrists, makes him feel so powerless, makes him ache with the desire to surrender, to lose himself completely.

Aomine, however, isn’t pleased at first when Kuroko breaks away from his kiss, cursing in frustration, but Kuroko prevents him from resuming it by placing a palm over Aomine’s mouth, shushing him gently before he can protest any further.

“I want you to tie me up,” he says, and that stops Aomine in his tracks, eyes widening with shock and arousal. “Please,” Kuroko adds, brushing his lips over the backs of his knuckles.

“Fuck.” Aomine shudders. “Fuck, Tetsu.”

He’s looking at Kuroko like he wants to devour him, like he wants to possess every single inch of him, and Kuroko smiles, pleased by his reaction. He doesn’t resist when Aomine binds his arms, spreads his legs willingly for him.

“My ankles too.”

Aomine frowns in warning. “You’re sure?”

“Yes.” Kuroko nods. “I’m sure.”

This way, he won’t be able to do anything, can barely move at all with the rope biting into his skin, and that turns him on even more, knowing it’ll leave marks when Aomine unfastens it later.

Aomine, on the other hand, can do whatever he likes, and that’s what really sends a thrill coursing through Kuroko’s veins, but it’s everything else as well, Aomine’s tongue and teeth at his throat, fingers low on Kuroko’s belly, rough against his cock, biting and sucking and jerking until Kuroko sobs in desperation.

He knows Aomine likes this, when he’s wanton and shameless, when he’s reduced to begging, when he’s letting a stream of filth slip past his lips that leaves Aomine moaning in awe and appreciation, that pulls him in for a kiss that’s as indecent as Kuroko’s uncharacteristic use of language, a kiss that’s sloppy and frenzied and leaving saliva thick between them.

“Come on,” Kuroko urges, lifting his hips. “Aomine-kun, please.”

“Okay.” Aomine keeps saying it as he spreads Kuroko open, positioning himself. “Okay, okay.”

And then Aomine is inside him, making Kuroko jerk with every slam of his hips, thrusts forceful and deliberate, and it’s incredible, almost borders on being too much, but he wants it to be overwhelming, wants Aomine to fuck him so hard he’ll be feeling it for the rest of the week.

It all happens so quickly, the pressure building in Kuroko’s balls, the rush of his orgasm as it rips through his body, Aomine stifling his wail by clamping a hand over his mouth, gritting his teeth and tensing up as he comes, muscles loosening and relaxing as he slumps on top of Kuroko, trembling, exhausted.

Kuroko simply breathes, and waits for Aomine to return to him.


	6. Theme #1: Angst

Written for the microfic meme  
Theme #1: Angst  
Warning: Character death

~~

It’s not even midday when Kuroko gets the call, and he leaves work early to rush to the hospital. They don’t tell him much, other than Aomine has been injured in the line of duty, and that he’s in a bad way, but when Kuroko finally finds him, it’s even worse than he’s expecting. 

Covering his mouth in shock, and to prevent any sound from emerging, Kuroko steps closer to Aomine’s bedside. He’s heavily bandaged and hooked up to all kinds of complicated looking machinery, and when he tries to give Kuroko a smile, it turns into a grimace because of the pain.

“Sorry, Tetsu. It doesn’t look like I’m going to make it.”

Kuroko shakes his head in denial, reaching for Aomine’s left hand and holding it between his. His fingers are cold, like ice, and his face is pale and damp with sweat. “What happened?” he manages to ask.

“Some asshole stabbed me while I was trying to arrest him.” Aomine pauses to cough, and Kuroko’s heart lurches in his chest when he sees the blood flecking his lips. “Honestly, people have no respect for cops these days.”

Fighting to keep his voice steady, Kuroko pulls a handkerchief out of his pocket to gently wipe Aomine’s mouth clean. “You’ll be okay, right?” Aomine doesn’t respond, so Kuroko says it again, more urgently this time. “Right?”

Aomine is being way too quiet, and it scares Kuroko. The machines beep steadily, but the rise and fall of Aomine’s chest is shallow as his breath rattles in his lungs. It’s a horrible sound. Kuroko wishes he would stop making it.

“Check my jacket,” Aomine tells him after a moment. “There’s something I wanted to give you.”

He’s reluctant to release his grip, but Kuroko does as Aomine requests. There’s a small velvet box waiting for him, and he opens it with shaking hands.

“You know that dinner we were meant to go out for tonight? I was actually planning on proposing to you afterwards. Guess it’s too late now.”

Biting his lower lip, Kuroko fumbles a little in his haste to slide the ring on his finger, raising it up for Aomine to see. “Look,” he says, through the tightness in his throat. “This is my answer.” 

“Idiot.” Aomine tries to laugh, but it turns into another coughing fit instead. “I haven’t asked you to marry me yet.”

“Yes,” Kuroko tells him, unable to stop the tears any longer. “A thousand times yes.”

“Aw, crap,” says Aomine, “don’t do that. You know I hate it when you cry.”

But Kuroko can’t help it. It’s like telling the sky to stop being blue, or the grass to stop being green, so Aomine beckons for him to come close again, manages to press a palm to the side of his face. Kuroko clings to it desperately, hoping it’ll be enough to keep Aomine with him, but deep down in his heart, he knows there’s no more time. 

“There are so many things I wanted to say to you,” Aomine confesses, and it breaks Kuroko’s heart to hear his voice crack with emotion. “There are so many things I wanted us to do together.”

“Stop talking like that,” Kuroko pleads, rubbing his cheek against the back of Aomine’s knuckles. 

“It’d be nice,” Aomine continues, the words coming out in a rush like he’s hurrying to say them now in case he loses his chance, “if you could find someone else someday who’ll love you just as much as I do, if not more so.”

Kuroko laughs, but it comes out as more of a sob. “Now you’re being ridiculous. You’re the only one I’ve ever loved.”

“What are you talking about? You’re still just twenty-five. You can’t spend the rest of your life alone.” Aomine pauses, his eyes going damp with regret. “But it’ll probably take a while for you to stop hurting, huh.”

He’ll never stop hurting, Kuroko thinks. He’s sure the pain will never go away. 

“Please don’t leave me,” he whispers.

Brushing a thumb over the corner of Kuroko’s mouth, Aomine simply says, “It’ll be okay. Satsuki will take care of you. Kagami too. He may be a dumb ass, but at least he’s reliable. Satsuki wouldn’t have married him otherwise. Speaking of which, she wanted to be your bridesmaid. You’re a moron, I said, guys don’t have bridesmaids, but she was all, Tetsu-kun is different, and besides, he’ll say yes even if you won’t. Well, you know how she can be.”

Kuroko wants to tell Aomine that it would be an honour to have Satsuki accompany him down the aisle, but he can’t bring himself to say it out loud when he thinks about how their wedding day will never come. It’s even worse when he thinks about how he’ll have to go home to an empty apartment, how they won’t be able to wake up next to each other any longer.

“Come on,” Aomine whispers, “no more tears. I want you to see me off with a smile.”

“Don’t ask for the impossible,” Kuroko says, but he tries to smile, really he does, because that’s how Aomine likes him best, only letting it slip when Aomine’s eyes close, and never open again.


	7. Theme #8: Hurt/comfort

Written for the microfic meme  
Theme #8: Hurt/comfort

~~

Kagami hears Momoi coming before he sees her, and since it’s quiet and there’s no one else around, her noisy wails carry even louder than usual.

“Tetsu-kun!”

As Kagami suspects, she’s in tears when she throws herself into Kuroko’s arms, and he pats her on the back as she sniffles against his shoulder.

“What’s wrong, Momoi-san?” he asks.

Kagami already knows the answer to that question, and he’s right when Momoi raises her face long enough to shout, “Stupid Dai-chan!” before burying it into the side of Kuroko’s neck.

It’s amazing how someone so calculating and intelligent can be reduced to the mental state of a five years old because of Aomine being his usual idiot self, and Kuroko sighs, looking a bit put upon, and it makes Kagami wonder how many times he’s been in this exact same situation to date.

“What did he say?” Kuroko prompts.

“He called me an interfering, ugly hag!”

“You’re not ugly, Momoi-san, and you’re certainly not interfering.” Kuroko manages to break free from her grip, taking his handkerchief out of his pocket and crouching down in front of Momoi so he can press it to her knee. “Look, you’ve hurt yourself.”

Momoi hiccups, and rubs her eyes. “I tripped and fell over on my way here. I’m okay, it’s only a scrape.”

She probably flashed a few onlookers in the process, too, but that’s not what’s on Kagami’s mind at the moment. Now he knows Kuroko is gay, because there’s no way on earth a straight guy could bring his face that close to a girl’s crotch without being affected.

“Have you calmed down yet?” Kuroko stands when Momoi nods, and he gives her a small but reassuring smile. “It’ll be all right. I’ll talk to Aomine-kun, so Kagami-kun will walk you to the train station since it’s getting dark.”

“Why me?” Kagami demands, annoyed that he can’t stay behind to keep shooting hoops. “She made it here on her own, so she can get back by herself.”

Unimpressed by his response, Kuroko frowns, and that’s when Kagami remembers how he thinks girls (or Momoi, at least) should be treated. Oh, right. Gentleman. Sure. Whatever.

“Come on, then,” he says, impatiently, to Momoi. “Let’s go.”

Momoi nods, still sniffling slightly, and Kuroko mimes the act of taking off his jacket behind her back, so Kagami shrugs out of the one he’s wearing and drops it over Momoi’s head.

“It’s getting cold. Wear this.”

She looks up at him in surprise, and brightens. “Thanks, Kagamin. You’re so nice.”

Kagami doesn’t really know what to say to that, so he just grunts.

“Incidentally,” Momoi continues, fluttering her eyelashes, “I wouldn’t mind stopping by at Maji Burger on the way for something to eat.”

“And you’re expecting me to pay?”

Kuroko coughs loudly.

“Okay, jeez.”

~~

Watching them until they’re out of sight, Kuroko turns to head in the opposite direction. Momoi’s data is accurate, as usual, and Aomine is right where she said he would be. He’s lying on his back, eyes closed, one leg bent at the knee, and he doesn’t seem surprised by his visitor.

“Yo, Tetsu.”

“How did you know it was me?” 

“I could tell by the sound of your footsteps.”

Kuroko sets his bag on the ground, sitting down beside it. “Momoi-san was crying.”

“She’s always blubbering about something. It’s probably because of her period.”

There’s no point berating Aomine for his lack of delicacy around women, Kuroko thinks, because it wouldn’t be much use. He and Momoi have been together ever since they were kids, and that’s why Aomine can be so insensitive with her, why he can hurt her feelings, often on purpose, because she’ll forgive him every time.

They’re almost like siblings, and they’re close, in their own way, which left Kuroko a little envious, once, and he sometimes still is. He’s never had that kind of relationship with anyone before, so he’s not sure what it would be like to experience it, but there is one thing he knows for certain, and that’s to remind Aomine of what he needs to do.

“Apologise to her later. It doesn’t matter whether it’s by text or to her face. Just say you’re sorry.”

“Yeah, yeah.” Aomine finally opens his eyes, glancing over at Kuroko before turning his gaze up at the starry sky. “You didn’t have to come all this way to tell me that. What do you think phones were invented for?”

“Sometimes,” Kuroko replies, “it’s better to say things in person.”

Aomine goes silent. It’s not like before, where they could sit together like this without words and still feel comfortable, because there’s a tension between them that hasn’t completely gone away yet, even though they can talk again now, even though it doesn’t hurt as much to be around each other anymore.

As much as Kuroko misses those days, he also knows they won’t be coming back. All they can do is keep moving forward, to try and fix what was once broken.

That’s why he waits for Aomine to speak in his own time, to tell him what’s on his mind, what he and Momoi were arguing about, and Kuroko has always been patient when it comes to Aomine, could quite happily wait an eternity for him.

“Satsuki was...” Aomine pauses, awkward, and Kuroko nods, to let him know he’s listening. “She got upset because of me. Not for pissing her off, but because she said we shouldn’t keep going on like this, you and me, ignoring what’s right in front of us instead of doing something about it. She said... she said I should–” he hesitates once more, making a face, like what’s coming out of his mouth is causing him actual, physical pain “–confess my *feelings* or whatever girly crap they call it.”

“I don’t think it’s girly,” Kuroko says quietly.

But it’s not the kind of thing guys are supposed to discuss, and it’s what’s makes Aomine so obviously uncomfortable.

Kuroko doesn’t ask Aomine how he feels about him, because he already knows, but it doesn’t stop him from wanting to hear it for himself, for Aomine to say it out loud, so he decides to go first, to give Aomine a little push, to lend him the strength that he needs.

“I love you, Aomine-kun.” Not like, because it’s more than that, because Kuroko isn’t naïve and inexperienced anymore. “I always have done, and I still do, even after all that we’ve been through. No,” he adds, “it’s *because* of what we’ve been through that I can tell you this, that I can appreciate just how much you mean to me.”

Aomine rolls over onto his side, hiding his face, and mumbles, “Same here,” but Kuroko isn’t going to let him get away with only that, so he pokes the small of Aomine’s back.

“Please don’t be so cowardly. If you’re a man, then you should look me in the eye and say it outright, without fear and without regret.” Kuroko smiles, even though Aomine can’t see it. “What are you afraid of? I’m not going to reject you.”

“I know that, and it’s not what scares me! I–” Aomine cuts himself off, like he’s said too much already, but he breathes in deeply through his nose, exhaling slowly out of his mouth before making another attempt. “I can’t lose you a second time. When I think about what might happen if you left again, I just...” 

Kuroko’s smile fades, and he places a palm gently on Aomine’s shoulder. “I’m sorry,” he says, “for doing that to you. I really am.”

“Idiot,” Aomine says. “It’s my fault as much as it is yours. We’re both to blame for getting in this state.”

At last, he allows Kuroko to see his face, to see the sadness and the vulnerability on it, and Kuroko’s heart aches, so he says, “I love you,” again and again, softly, reverently, and touches his fingertips to Aomine’s forehead, his cheeks, his lips, his jaw, until Aomine grabs his wrist, holding on tight, and Kuroko locks their fingers together, squeezes back just as strong.

“Is this even going to work?” Aomine asks, and it’s almost like a role reversal, where he’s the one who’s seeking support from Kuroko instead of it being the other way around, and if he needs that little bit of extra help, then Kuroko is more than willing to offer it.

“It will,” he says firmly. “We’ll make it work.”

“Okay,” Aomine says, letting himself believe, placing his trust in Kuroko like he once used to, what feels like so long ago. “Okay.” 

He leans up, Kuroko bends down, and their lips meet in the middle.


	8. Theme #10: UST

Written for the microfic meme  
Theme #10: UST

~~

Christmas Eve is probably not the best time to do last minute shopping, but Aomine has never been good with planning ahead, or with dates, or with anything, really, that doesn’t involve basketball, which is why he calls Kuroko and (although he’s ashamed to admit it) begs for him to tag along.

Kuroko sighs over the other end of the phone, in a way that tells Aomine he should have done this ages ago, that he’s leaving it far too late, and while he doesn’t flat-out refuse, he still makes an attempt to talk him out of it.

“It’s going to be very busy,” he says, like Aomine isn’t aware of this already, “not to mention incredibly cold,” which Aomine also realises, because he hates it when the temperature gets below a certain level, “so are you sure you want to brave the both the weather and the crowds?”

“I don’t have any other choice,” Aomine says, and he can hear the desperation in his own voice. “Come *on*, Tetsu, there’s only another couple of hours before all the stores will be shut.”

“What’s in it for me?”

Not much, Aomine thinks, because it’s almost the end of the month and he doesn’t have much money left already, and he has to spend what little he actually does have on presents for Momoi and his mother, so he says, “We’ll talk about it when we get there, okay? I’ll see you at the station in ten.”

And he hangs up before Kuroko can reply.

Kuroko, thankfully, gets there before Aomine, and he’s dressed appropriately for the winter, which is more than can be said for Aomine, who was so busy fighting stress on his way out of the door, he forgot to bring his scarf and gloves.

“You look freezing,” is the first thing out of Kuroko’s mouth, and he looks a little grossed out as he offers Aomine his handkerchief. “For goodness sake, wipe your nose.”

Aomine honks loudly into it, attracting attention from the nearby passengers who glance at him with expressions similar to Kuroko’s, and passes the handkerchief back, but Kuroko shakes his head, gesturing for Aomine to keep it (which makes sense, since it’s full of snot and all).

“So,” Kuroko says, as they head for the shopping district, “have you any idea what you’re going to buy?”

“Not a clue,” Aomine replies grimly, squaring his shoulders against the chill wind. “That’s why I brought you along, because you’re way better at this gift giving crap than I am.” Rubbing his arms briskly through his jacket in an attempt to get some warmth, he scowls at the people blocking their way. “Damn, it’s packed. I don’t even want to *be* here. Why can’t I go home instead?”

“Because you need to purchase presents and because you have nobody to blame but yourself for not getting them sooner.” 

Kuroko’s voice comes from far away, and Aomine does a double take when he realises that he’s no longer by his side, that he’s used his diminutive size and his misdirection skills to slip through the crowd without notice and without hindrance.

It takes Aomine far more effort to catch him up, and he has to apologise more than once for bumping into other shoppers, stopping at one point to pick up the groceries he accidentally knocks out of an old lady’s bag, but she’s nice about it instead of being pissed off, and she even hands him an apple as a thank you afterwards.

“That was kind of her,” Kuroko notes, once Aomine manages to get to where he’s waiting, but Aomine hasn’t stopped being irritated by all the other human beings that aren’t him and Kuroko yet.

“You know,” Aomine says, forced to side step in order to avoid getting barged right into by a young girl who doesn’t bother to watch where she’s going, “they should build two lanes, one for slow people, and one for fast people. Then nobody would get in my way.”

“Or,” Kuroko suggests, “you could have done your shopping earlier, therefore avoiding the chaos completely.”

Aomine grunts, because it’s a good point and he can’t argue against it, but he still can’t help being annoyed. “Yeah, yeah. Let’s just go, okay?”

Kuroko dismisses his first two choices (flowers and perfume) as too generic and uninspired, not that Aomine particularly cares, because hey, something has to be better than nothing, right? But he also rejects Aomine’s next choice (edible underwear), which upsets him somewhat, because he considers it to be an awesome gift (plus, it’s been reduced by twenty five per cent).

“It would not make Momoi-san happy,” Kuroko says firmly, “and I sincerely hope you aren’t considering getting it for your mother.”

“Ew, no.” Aomine shudders. “But you’ve got to admit, the look on Satsuki’s face would be priceless.”

“As would yours when she kicks you in the crotch for being so insensitive.”

And this is another reason why Aomine has chosen Kuroko to accompany him, because he understands girls and feelings and all that bullshit.

“Whatever, jeez.” Aomine checks his watch, blanching when he sees they have only fifty minutes left. “Ugh, I don’t even care anymore. I’ll just close my eyes, buy whatever my index finger lands on and hope for the best.”

He’s seriously about to do exactly that, but Kuroko curls a glove-covered palm around his wrist, and gives it a small tug.

“It’s too early to give up now, Aomine-kun. We still have time.”

Surprised by Kuroko’s display of optimism, Aomine allows himself to be guided to the nearest bookstore. Apparently there’s some bestseller than housewives have been going crazy over, not that Aomine has heard anything about it, but Kuroko assures him his mom will love it, and if she doesn’t, then he should keep the receipt so she can bring it back and exchange it for something else.

Flicking through the pages idly, Aomine snaps the book shut again in horror when he glimpses the words “soothing balm for a spanked ass” and “like steel encased in velvet”.

“Have you read this?”

Kuroko, suspiciously, changes the subject. “Quick, Aomine-kun, stand in line before it grows any longer.”

Aomine isn’t sure whether he should, but he’ll be brave and trust Kuroko’s judgement, despite it being even more questionable than his own.

All he has left to find is a present for Momoi, and Kuroko recommends a photo album. 

“Momoi-san likes taking pictures,” he says, “and I think it would be nice to give her something she can store her precious memories in.”

Thank god, Aomine thinks, a normal gift, and he buys it without question, although the price tag makes him want to cry tears of blood (Kuroko won’t let him go for the cheaper alternative, because the more expensive one has cute puppies on the cover).

“At last!” Aomine breathes a sigh of relief. “Mission complete.”

“Not quite.” Kuroko sounds disappointed. “What about me?”

Aomine stares back blankly. 

“You said you’d get me something for helping you out.”

Panicking, Aomine opens his wallet. The contents are pitiful. “Um.” He glances around, helplessly. “There’s a one hundred yen store over there?”

Kuroko is unimpressed.

“Where,” Aomine continues, voice growing smaller and smaller as the aura around Kuroko becomes darker and darker, “I could buy you precisely one item.”

“Oh?” Kuroko frowns. “That’s how much you think my time is worth?”

Searching frantically for a way out of his predicament (because Kuroko can be even scarier than Akashi when he’s mad), Aomine’s gaze lands on a pathway that leads out of the shopping district, that’s lined with trees and lights and other festive decorations. It sparkles enticingly in the darkness, and Aomine points in its direction.

“There!” he says. “Let’s for a walk together, where it’s all pretty and... stuff.”

Kuroko sighs, like he did over the phone, and sets off ahead of Aomine. It turns out to be almost as busy as the shopping district, but it’s different, Aomine soon notices, because it’s full of couples. Some of them are holding hands, others have their arms around each other and the bolder pairs are kissing.

It leaves Aomine feeling awkward, and he wonders if it would be a bad idea to turn tail and run, but one look at Kuroko’s face tells him he’d only be making matters worse for himself in the end.

They’re really out of place here, and Aomine tries not to stare at anyone, although he risks another glance at Kuroko who seems to have snapped out of his sour mood somewhat, but Aomine ends up watching him longer than he originally intended when he sees Kuroko’s enchanted expression. 

“Do you like it?” Aomine asks him.

“I think it’s beautiful,” Kuroko says softly.

“Oh,” says Aomine. He should probably make a comment of his own, preferably something Kuroko will find flattering, so he adds, “And I think you smell brilliant.”

It’s dumbest, most random thing ever (even though Kuroko really does smell nice, not like Aomine, who smells like unwashed socks and the broth he spilled on himself from the noodles he ate earlier), and he wishes a whole would open up in the ground so he could fall through it, but Kuroko, once he’s stopped being gob smacked by Aomine’s stupidity, starts to laugh. It’s a sound Aomine doesn’t often hear, and he considers it far more enthralling than any Christmas lights.

“You’re an idiot, Aomine-kun,” says Kuroko, fondly, and Aomine can’t deny it, nor does he want to when Kuroko is looking at him like that. “But thank you for bringing me here.”

“You’re welcome?”

Smiling, Kuroko unwinds his scarf, standing up on his tiptoes to wrap it around Aomine’s neck. He can feel the warmth from where it’s been in contact with Kuroko’s skin, and Aomine shivers without meaning to.

“Are you still cold?” Kuroko holds out a hand, and Aomine takes it after a moment’s hesitation. Kuroko moves their joined fingers to the pocket of his coat, and it’s not really ideal, because it means Aomine has to lean over to his right due to the height difference, sort of like he’s drunk and can’t stay upright on his own. “Better?”

Aomine nods (not that he’s feeling the cold any longer, thanks to the redness of his face), and they set off walking again.

They look like a couple, and anyone who sees them is sure to get the wrong impression, but Aomine doesn’t protest, doesn’t complain, even though he’s embarrassed, even though they’re holding hands.

As long as Kuroko is content, he won’t say a damn thing to spoil it.


	9. Theme #7: Humour

Written for the microfic meme  
Theme #7: Humour

~~

Aomine is terrible at choosing gifts. Kuroko knows this all too well, which is why he’s understandably cautious when Aomine gives him something to celebrate his birthday. The only reason he’s probably even remembered the date is because of Momoi, and the side of Kuroko that likes to remain optimistic hopes that she also managed to have some input on whatever Aomine has bought. The pessimistic side, however, expects something inappropriate, embarrassing or both.

It could be worse, Kuroko tells himself, because they could be doing this in public and not in private, but they’re in Aomine’s bedroom where no one else will see or hear them, so he supposes it’s a tiny bit of relief.

He disguises his hesitation by pretending to admire the effort Aomine has put into wrapping the gift (which is, he guesses, judging by the amount of scotch tape around it, an awful lot), and it takes him over five minutes just to reach the contents. Aomine watches in excitement, like he can’t wait to see what Kuroko’s reaction will be, and it makes Kuroko feel vaguely nervous, because if Aomine is excited, then he’s pretty sure this can’t be good.

At long last, Kuroko succeeds in unwrapping his gift, surprised to find that it’s a tee shirt, but he doesn’t let his guard down yet, because even though it may appear harmless on the surface, it’s still an item of clothing that has been picked out by Aomine, and as Kise is forever complaining, he has zero taste in fashion. 

The tee shirt, from what Kuroko can see of it, is plain and white, but that’s only the back. He has a funny feeling that there’s something written on the front of it, and when he turns it over to confirm his suspicions, he’s one hundred per cent correct. The characters for BOOBS reveals that, yes, this is definitely a tee shirt that has been bought by Aomine, because it’s exactly the kind of thing that appeals to him, the kind of thing that he tends to find hilarious, and the way he has a huge grin plastered all over his face proves it.

“Well?” Aomine prompts. “What do you think?”

There are two ways in which Kuroko could respond. The nicest one would be to lie and pretend that it’s a wonderful gift and that he loves it. The second would be to tell the truth and inform Aomine how awful it is and that he hates it.

Kuroko, as usual, goes with honesty.

“It’s hideous.”

Aomine blinks, like he doesn’t think he’s heard Kuroko properly, but then his expression turns to disappointment, like he can’t understand why Kuroko isn’t thrilled with the gift, and then to wounded, like Kuroko has just given him the worst possible insult.

“But why?”

“Because,” says Kuroko, “you can’t seriously expect me to wear this.”

Aomine’s face says that he does, and that he can’t understand why Kuroko wouldn’t want to. 

“First,” Kuroko continues, because Aomine obviously needs it spelling out for him, “it’s a tee shirt that says BOOBS, and second, as if that alone wasn’t enough, it’s not even in my size. Look,” he adds, holding it up, “it’s far too big.”

“It’s supposed to be,” Aomine says. “All boyfriend shirts are.”

Kuroko stares dubiously. “It’s a boyfriend shirt?”

Aomine nods. “Yeah.”

“With BOOBS written on it?”

“Uh-huh.”

Kuroko folds the tee shirt back up carefully before placing it on the floor. “You’d better have kept the receipt, because this gift is going right back to the shop where you bought it from so I can exchange it for something else.”

Horrified, Aomine says, “You can’t do that! Do you have any idea how much thought I put into choosing it? That’s where gifts are supposed to come from, right? From the heart!”

“Liar,” Kuroko accuses. “You just wanted to do dirty things to me while I was wearing it.”

The way Aomine flinches confirms his suspicions, but because he’s such a shameless pervert, he doesn’t even bother pretending to be guilty. “Well,” he admits, “that’s part of it, but it’d also make it easier for me to imagine you with breasts if it’s spelled out across your chest.”

“And why,” says Kuroko, coolly, “would you need to do that?”

“Because,” Aomine says, matter of fact (and completely missing how close Kuroko is to punching him in the gut), “I like big tits. Smalls ones work for me too,” he adds, belatedly noticing Kuroko’s irritation. “And, um, no tits at all are just as good.” Then he brightens. “But you know, you can get padded bras now, and those that are filled with gel, to look and feel more realistic.”

Kuroko raises an eyebrow. “I take it you also spent a lot of time hanging around the lingerie department while you were choosing me a gift.”

Aomine’s eyes light up. “I saw the most perfect pair of lace panties that would totally match the colour of your eyes, and then there were these stockings that’d be, like, the hottest things ever on you. I didn’t buy any of them in the end, but only because I had no idea what size you’d be in women’s clothing. Apart from the bra, of course, because you’d obviously be an AA cup. I bet Satsuki still has some of her old training bras somewhere, so I could root around in her room and see if I can find one for you if you like. They’re ugly as sin, but hell, I’ll take what I can get.”

“Aomine-kun,” says Kuroko, cracking his knuckles in warning, “you should probably stop talking now. Do you have any last words before the Ignite Pass of justice meets your stomach?”

“Um.” Aomine fights his fear long enough to ask, “Does this mean there’s going to be no hot birthday sex?”

“I’m afraid there won’t be any of that,” Kuroko says, “because I doubt you’ll regain consciousness anytime soon.”


	10. Theme #2: AU

Written for the microfic meme  
Theme #2: AU

~~

Aomine is a heavy weight on Kuroko’s back as he half drags, half carries him to their hideout, breathing strained and shallow, blood seeping out from his wounds and into his clothes. Kuroko can treat his physical injuries, but his others are much more serious.

“You need to replenish your mana,” he says, voice tight with concern, “and soon.”

“It’ll be fine if I sleep for a few days,” says Aomine, dismissively, like it’s no big deal, like he isn’t in danger of dying. “All I need to do is draw in energy from the nearby ley lines.”

“We don’t have time for that,” Kuroko argues, laying Aomine down as gently as he can, wiping the blood away from his lips before undoing his shirt. “We have to keep moving. We’re low on supplies anyway, and it’ll make us an easy target for our pursuers if we stay so close to such an obvious power source. Besides,” he adds, focusing his attention on cleaning Aomine’s wounds to prevent them from getting infected, “I won’t be able to handle things on my own if we’re attacked.”

It’s the reason why Aomine has ended up in such a state, why he’s been so badly hurt. It’s because Kuroko isn’t strong enough to do anything other than support him, because he still needs protecting, even though he’s trying so hard to be worthy of fighting by Aomine’s side.

“In any case,” Kuroko concludes firmly, bandaging the last of the cuts on Aomine’s bare torso, “it’ll be quicker and more efficient for you to take mana from me.”

Aomine laughs hollowly. “More efficient, huh.” 

There’s tension between them now that wasn’t there before, but Kuroko chooses to ignore it. There’s no other way, he tells himself, as he starts to undress. It doesn’t matter that Aomine is being stubborn and self reliant, the way he always has, that he hates the idea of this mana replenishment method, but what’s more important is keeping him alive.

If he dies, Kuroko will never forgive himself.

“It’s necessary for your survival,” he insists, “so stop making that face. You don’t have a problem providing your body with nourishment from food, right? This is no different.”

“That’s all it is to you, is it?” Aomine says. “Just a base human need?”

Kuroko bites his lip before he can say what he really wants to, before he can snap out that he’s doing this because he cares about Aomine, because he loves him, but instead he says, quietly, “It’s either this, or kill someone and steal their mana by force.”

At least he’s willing, and he doesn’t want Aomine taking any more lives, no matter how powerful he is, no matter how brutal he can be in battle. 

And this is where Kuroko’s true strength lies, in his ability to supply his partner with mana. He may be physically weak, but his energy levels are greater than anything Aomine could take from the ley lines. If he channels that energy into Aomine, then he can replenish what he’s lost.

The easiest way for him to do it is through the exchange of bodily fluids.

Aomine doesn’t look at Kuroko when he reaches for his cock to get him hard. The only sign he’s even being affected by the stimulation is by the way his face begins to flush and his breathing becomes heavier. He doesn’t say anything. He just lets Kuroko do what he needs to.

There’s not much he can use to prepare himself, but Kuroko doesn’t care as he guides Aomine inside, ignoring the ache of the stretch as he slides down onto him. It hurts, but Aomine is in more pain than him, and Kuroko isn’t doing this for pleasure, he’s doing it for a different purpose.

It exposes everything about him to Aomine, not just his body but also his very soul, and although the connection between them has been forcefully formed on Kuroko’s side, they’re still compatible enough, and as long as Aomine doesn’t reject him completely, as long as he accepts what Kuroko is trying to give him, then it’s fine.

Vaguely, he realises that Aomine has begun to move together with him, hears him swear softly, like he’s cursing himself for being so responsive, but Kuroko is too focused on the mana transfer.

Take it, he thinks, feeling the energy flowing out of him and into Aomine, take it all, and even though he knows how foolish it is, that it’s dangerous to give so much of himself, it doesn’t matter. It would be enough to just restore Aomine’s depleted mana levels to normal, but Kuroko goes further than that by healing Aomine’s injuries, even the minor ones. 

It leaves him totally drained and powerless afterwards, but he uses the last of his remaining strength to bring the transfer to completion, crying out when he feels Aomine jerk underneath him, flooding him with warmth and wetness, catching Kuroko with shaking arms when he slumps on top of him.

He blacks out for a while, but he’s still in Aomine’s embrace when he comes to. It leaves him feeling helpless, unable to even twitch his limbs from sheer exhaustion, but Aomine seems to sense his vulnerability, and he tightens his arms, protective.

“Idiot,” he mutters, fingers gentle against Kuroko’s bare skin. “You gave me too much.”

“It’s all right,” Kuroko says, voice hoarse. “That’s how it should be.”

“No,” Aomine argues, sounding frustrated. “No, it’s not.” He pauses, like it’s painful for him to admit it, but he gets the words out anyway. “You should be with him instead. Kagami’s your fated one, not me. Partners work better when they’re destined for each other.”

Kuroko tries to smile for him, but even that takes effort. “I chose you, didn’t I? Fate and destiny aren’t going to change the way I feel about you.”

“Don’t say that.” Aomine’s voice is raw with emotion. “Just... don’t.”

“Okay.” Kuroko rest his head on Aomine’s chest, listening to the beating of his heart. “Okay.”

“Sleep,” Aomine tells him, stroking Kuroko’s hair. “We’ll leave when it gets light.”


End file.
